The Only thing I've known
by AnEdwardFanatic
Summary: Abuse story. Bella has lived an abusive life. Wallowing in her self pity. What happens when the Cullens' move into town? How can a troubled teenage Edward help- well.. a troubled teen?
1. Chapter 1

Disclaimer: I do not own the characters Stephenie Meyer, Author of the twilight series has created, but I do own the plot line of this story. Any infringement is not intended. Warning: do not steal my idea.

I sit quietly in the creaky run-down lazy boy my parents bought years ago, wincing as the torn leather fabric pinched my sickly pale skin as I sank into its confines. The chair was practically deteriorating before my eyes. My shoulders slumped and a wave of sadness enveloped me as I realized that this was a perfect analogy of my life.

My life was destroyed years ago, until I became an outsider to my own life. Watching as it deteriorated and withered before my own eyes. Watching as it played out in front of me as I looked on with bored eyes.

My mother, Renee, jolting me out of my internal musings, making me put my wallowing on pause, asks me to turn the television to her favourite station: Lifetime. Apparently, I'm their human television remote.

I quietly comply with her request and do what my mother commands, only to be stopped by the pathetic excuse for a father that sits beside her. He barks at me harshly, commanding me to disobey my mother and yield to his wishes instead.

I'm about to comply after I complete the task my mother already has requested of me.

Charlie grows impatient with me. He shows me no respect, so I show him none in return. Isn't that what they say? "_To earn respect you must give it?"_ Well I fully believed in that saying and I stand firm in my belief. Even him I'm just grasping at straws to justify my behaviour.

Charlie, my father, Chief of police overreacts in response to my sluggish behaviour to complete his order and tries to save face in front of my mother. He resorts to pushing and hitting his daughter, me, demonstrating his role as the alpha of this pathetic and fucked up excuse for a family.

He removes his hand swiftly but leaves behind evidence of his assault. In its place, her hand is adorned with black and blue marks and now red to add to her almost healed marks. Decorating her skin and displayed proudly like a beacon of light.

I don't wince. I refuse to let him see the physical pain he causes me by revealing the emotional storm raging behind my stony mask. I'm not afraid of him anymore and I does not cower in his presence as of late. I… have learned to adapt.

Instead, I choose to stare at him, allowing my mask to slip just this once and disbelief shines clear on my facial features.

His actions confirm what I've been trying to tell my mother for years.

The words "woman abuser" and "child abuser" echoes in faintly through my mind, the words resounding, bouncing off the far corners of my mind as well as Renee's mind and at that very moment, our eyes connect.

Mother to daughter. I'm communicating silently with my eyes, reiterating the very words I've spoken long ago many times, the words that my mouth cannot repeat anymore. Repetition gets tedious.

My mother breaks the connection with our eyes and casts her eyes downwards, refusing to look at me, her daughter, in the eye. Knowing what she would surely find rooted firmly in my eyes: Betrayal.

My eyes harden and I turn my gaze back to my father. I'm angry…furious.

I summon all of my courage and in that moment a weight has been lifted off of my chest as rip the imaginary thread from locking and sealing my lips together tightly. I speak the truth out loud and scorn my father venomously.

I could almost hear the faint thuds of the spittle that escapes my mouth along with my words.

Charlie's furious with me and in retaliation, he picks up a thick black cable cord and threatens to beat me with it and my mind travels back to a time where he _did_ beat me with such a monstrosity. The only difference is he did not use a cable cord, but used a piece of the green garden hose in its place where he bent it once to create a torturous weapon.

I remember, with crystal clear clarity and push down the mounting fear within me and dare him to strike me with my eyes. I taunt him.

He backs down and so does she.

This is the first time he's hesitated to hit me.

I yearn to spit on him like the dirt he is but instead, I storm off and situate myself beside my mother. I fumed silently, crossing my arms across my torso in an effort to stop my limbs from attacking him. I claw into the skin on my arms, digging into it to anchor me from launching myself at him.

I smirk darkly. Who am I kidding? I don't have the balls to attack my own father.

And then I remember:

He will meet his demise.

I shake out of my anger induced stupor and concentrate on the task at hand.

There he lies on his clean sheets on his bed with his wife by his side. My eyes linger on his wife for a moment as my fingers on my left hand caress the cold hard aluminum beneath my fingers like a tentative lover.

I smile softly at the calming feeling such an object can give to me and I continue to watch his wife as she sleeps peacefully nestled into his side.

How sickeningly sweet.

I hesitate for a second. Do I really want to do this? I ask myself uncertainly. Yes, yes I do.

However, my smile falters as I encounter a hurdle of indecision of who I should share my "calm" with first. The husband or the wife? The father or the mother? My frown does not last long as I make my decision and my smile re-appears full force.

"_**Batter up! She's ready to bat, and you can see immense concentration on her face**_!" my imaginary baseball commentator exclaims and I can't help but chuckle darkly at my errant thought as I plant my feet firmly on the freezing cold tiled floor.

It's dark but light was streaming through the window from the moon illuminating the ill lighted bedroom, illuminating the faces of the faux parents lying in front of me.

My eyes glint wickedly as a loud crack echoes through the air, and a pained cry pierced through the silent night. Hands tried desperately to grab for me blindly and I take another swing reveling in the dark music of cracked bones and pained cries.

His wife jolts awake when her husband jostles the bed and screams like a wild banshee. Asshole. He is so inconsiderate I note clucking my tongue while shaking my head in disappointment.

Renee turns to look for the source of her husband's pain, and her distraught eyes land on a very distressed and haggard looking Bella. My mother stares, frozen for a moment as she witnesses the smile slowly forming on her daughter's lips. And at that moment, she knows that this is not _her_ Bella anymore.

She quickly forgets about her husband lying paralyzed with pain beside her, and her body prepared to scream.

I watched in amusement as I witnessed her mouth open wide and her chest puff out as she gulped down the air greedily.

My smile grows impossibly wider. My eyes danced with delight. She wet her lips and it's like I'm in a movie, and the climax has just begun.

The air rushes out of Renee's mouth in a loud whooshing sound after a dull thud is heard.

The sound of my aluminum bat connecting with my mother's stomach is like music to my ears.

"Demon! I rebuke you in Jesus name!" Renee wheezed out.

I let out a bitter laugh as it is clear as day that she still strongly believes that the way she molded me: with harsh words and black and blue skin; that I am the one possessed.

I spat on her and do not spare her another glance… not yet.

I returned my attention to the "woman beater", "child abuser" and half a man lying in bed next his sociopath of a wife, only to be disappointed at the sight before me.

I pouted as I realized he was lying unconscious on the mattress, knocked out by the pain inflicted on him.

A bout of compassion crashes over me and I decide to grant him this kindness and let him rest. _He's going to need it_.

My pout doesn't last long as I glance over at his wife again and I clucked my tongue disapprovingly and express my disappointment with words about her husband to her.

Smirking, I stalked predatorily towards her.

The night has just begun…

_**Author's note: Hey this is just a teaser preview of what is to come. Review if you like me and wish for me to continue. Thank you**_.


	2. Chapter 2

**Disclaimer: Any copyright infringes not intended. Any recognizable characters from twilight are owned by Stephenie Meyer.**

**The plot and ideas of this story are mine.**

**Hey I hope you enjoy this chapter.**

My eyes snapped open as I awake from my dreams the springs of my mattress digging uncomfortably into my skin. I scoffed.

Dreams? I don't even dream anymore. Dreams are supposed to be happy right? Full of your ambitions, goals… everything you yearn for, everything that is beyond your reach at that moment. The things you want so bad that when your body is exhausted your brain still works, trying it's best to please its owner by creating these silly illusions and allowing you to live them. At least you can in your head.

I have one dream, _just one. _The same one plays over and over and I can't find it in myself to be upset or irritated because it's my escape.

_The wind blows through my hair its long fingers playing with the strands of my hair, tangling my brown curls and creating knots. I smile because it reminds me so much of those movies my mother loves to watch. The affection a mother shows to their young daughter by braiding their hair._

_My right foot dangles off the cliff I sit so precariously upon while my chin is nestled quite comfortably on my left knee as I look beyond the vast amount of water hundreds and hundreds of feet below me. It's a black abyss._

_There is only a dim light illuminating my little world and for some reason I'm grateful for it though all around me is darkness, a convoluted array of greys and blacks._

_I look down at myself and the silk cloth ruffles in tiny ripples with the wind scraping gently across my skin. _

_White_

_I'm always wearing white._

Yet it feels so real, adrenaline courses through your veins, endorphins are released in a burst of colours beneath your eyelids, fingers and toes twitch and sometimes even your lips move whether into a smile or a frown depending on your dream.

I continue to stare at the planks of wood above me, it's surface so intriguing filled with swirls of patterns and symbols… so simple, yet so complex and I'm fixated.

I see the beauty this piece of building material holds and can't help but think "_if the patterns are so beautiful now the tree has been cut, uprooted and chopped… how magnificent this tree must have been_"

My alarm clock goes off beside me, loud and obnoxious, tearing through the silent cold air of my room and I mourn the loss of silence.

I take one last deep breath before getting up to ready myself for school.

"Bella! Turn that dam thing off!" My father screams from the opposite side of my door startling me, making my hand slide across the surface of the clock in my haste to shut if off.

The clock hits the wooden floors with a loud clank no doubt scratching and denting the floor as it collides head first with the floor.

And then there is silence.

I don't even realise I'm holding my breath and my anxiety increases with every passing second. I could even hear my heart thumping against my ribs. The sound is the loudest thing in this room until I hear an angry growl from outside my door.

Shit. Please! Please not today! Not again!

"Bella I swear to god if you've destroyed anything with your damned clumsiness there will be consequences" Charlie growled through the door.

My hands are shaking and I try my best to calm my erratic breathing while staring at the small slit beneath the door where I can see a shadow of his boot clad feet.

"Do you hear me? Answer me!" he rattled the door knob.

"Yes dad. I understand"

He rattled the door knob again.

"Bella open this door" his voice having an undercurrent of malice in it. To someone else he'd just sound stern. The picture of an angry parent about to scold their child for their wrong doings, but I've heard this all before his voice burned into my memory. I could even pin point when he's being sincere by the octaves and decibels in his voice.

"Bella! I said to open—"

The chatter of his police radio on his hip goes off cutting him off mid sentence, the robotic female operator voice can be heard through my wooden door. And I'm saved.

"This is not over" he threatens but it can't put a damper on my mood. I was still on a high from not getting smacked around so early in the morning.

I head off to my bathroom with a comical pep in my step. Shedding myself of my clothes and hopping straight into the shower not even waiting for the water to heat up. So my body is bombarded with a cold spray before being hit with hot water.

The combination isn't good for my body, I know that. Well at least I think I do… Renee told me I could get a heart attack by rapidly changing the temperatures so drastically. Said it's not good for me. Well what does she know?

I stepped out of the shower almost slipping on the white tiled floor grasping on to the basin to keep from bashing my head on the bathroom tub.

I dressed hastily tugging on my converse before grabbing my bag pack and made my way to the door.

"Oh honey, you're not eating breakfast?" Renee asked concerned from in the kitchen.

I sighed. I was not in the mood for her house wife act. I never was.

And there she was, in all of her glory with her "NO Parking" yellow of an apron slaving over a hot stove of "Shake and Bake" pancakes.

"No mom"

"Bella I've told you this more than once. You need to eat you're too skinny" she reprimanded probably as annoyed as I was of the repetition.

Really, I wasn't even that skinny. I wore shirts and pants two sizes too big for me, clothes that I felt comfortable in. So what if they hung lose on me? So what if my appearance wasn't pleasing to the male eyes?

I felt like a chameleon in these clothes, able to blend and mesh with the dreary outdoors of Forks. And of course they didn't irritate my bruises.

_That was a plus._

I'm pathetic I can't even stomach the pain or the wave of nausea that crashes over me whenever I think of something brushing over my bruises. It takes me back to when the bruises are being made and I can't stomach seeing myself being beaten helplessly. I can't watch myself shut down and not fight back.

I can't watch myself being a _coward_.

"Fine" I huffed dropping my bag by the kitchen counter while taking a seat. She set a plate down in front of me with three golden brown pancakes drenched in Aunt Jemima syrup and I dug in. I have to admit, I was hungry and these pancakes were delicious.

I couldn't help but feel self-conscious as Renee's eyes were glued to my profile on the chair. I tried my best to avoid eye contact because the way she was staring at me was unnerving, watching as my fork disappeared behind my lips.

I shifted in my chair uncomfortable.

She's never watched me so closely before, almost as if she was observing me waiting for something to happen. My fork stopped mid scoop and I looked up at her as she stared intently at my mouth and I looked down.

My mouth felt dry and I swallowed hard.

"I think I'm done eating" I voiced quietly.

"Nonsense! I worked really hard on this and you need to finish up" she scolded a slight frown marring her features.

I sighed and continued to eat. It was better to do as she said. It's always better to do what they say.

I hastily hopped into my monster of a truck and headed for school, my stomach extended to the point of discomfort. I felt bloated and uncomfortable.

Two more helpings forced down my throat. I'll have finger like bruises on my neck for sure.

I swerved to the side of the road my tires squealing in protest. I hurriedly exited the cab of my truck before falling on my hands and knees as my body heaved the contents of today's morning breakfast.

The gravel digging into the skin of my palms, the pain pulsing in my hands made it much easier for me to concentrate.

I'm not anorexic.

Nor am I bulimic.

I don't have an eating disorder. I was just too _full_.

I wiped at my tear streaked face with the back of my hand and continued spit trying to get the bitter taste of vomit out of my mouth.

Specks of blood accompanied my saliva. The inside of my lip must be busted from where I tried to close my mouth this morning.

Renee had the body of an athlete even in her late thirties I smiled sardonically.

My scalp still felt tender where she grasped my hair in her left fist and used her right to shovel down two more helpings of pancakes. The tastes of mucous and salty tears were still fresh in my mind as I cried and gagged and blubbered trying to get her to stop.

I couldn't stop the fear that spiked my heart beat as I remembered the look in her eyes, the set of her jaw and the flare of her nostrils as she stabbed the pancakes with my fork angrily and pushing them past my clenched teeth, punching me in the stomach when I wouldn't relent.

Wiping off my mouth I headed for school while _**I'm walking away by Craig David**_ blasted through the headphones of my iPod nano.

_**I'm walking away **_

_**From the troubles in my life**_

_**I'm walking away**_

_**Oh to find a better day**_

I tapped my feet and my head bobbed to the beat while rubbing away the tears that had leaked out the corners of my eyes before singing along with the song.

Sniffling and croaking along with the music. I sounded terrible like a howling dog but I loved every minute of it even laughing at myself as my voice cracked embarrassingly at some parts.

I pulled up to the school's parking lot, hopping out.

Revelling in the chorus of the song and what it meant for me. The freedom of just being able to say enough is enough and to be on my way. Every time I played this song I would picture myself packing up my stuff and leaving my home for good.

I don't have much stuff so I always envisioned myself with my school back- pack with nothing but my most cherished novels and the clothes on my back as I fled my home.

I chuckled.

I even had that stupid picture of me walking away into the sunset and being on my own. I would have my own apartment, a job… I'd even save up for college.

But that was all in my imagination.

Not to mention I left out the part of me riding off into the sunset with Prince Charming… This was my new revised edition escape plan.

_I made up the horse thing when I was 8…_

I knew the truth though I've never blinded myself with false hope: I would never be able to escape. How would I be able to survive on my own? What would I do? How would I get by?

I can't walk away from the troubles in my life. My father's a cop he'd be able to find me and drag me back kicking and screaming with a complementary busted lip to boot. Even if I was to escape my troubles would follow me there.

I hated when I did this, dragging myself down with my own pesky problems. My imagination was all I had left even my dreams were a complete bust.

I continued singing along with my music a big smile plastered on my face. Even if my world was full of darkness that didn't mean I couldn't have one day to just be happy. Ridiculously happy.

I sang softly at first. Before I knew it I was belting out the lines from Craig David's song like a pro. You couldn't even tell that I was crying anymore, my voice was back to its normal fluid cadence.

And I sang my heart out giggling and twirling around in the parking lot. The parking lot not yet filled with the cars from other students except for one shiny Volvo near the school's entrance. I guess I'm not the only early bird here.

I continued to singing right down to the last note of the song before I began to feel dizzy.

I groaned and headed straight for the bathroom my head pounding slightly. My heart was pounding erratically against my ribs and I pressed my hand to my raging heart putting some pressure behind my hand in an attempt to calm my heart. I looked at myself in the mirror beads of sweat pebbled across my forehead my face was flushed very uncharacteristic for the cold weather of Forks.

I looked closer only to find my eyes dilated to the extreme. I looked like a crazed psycho my hair flowing around my face and back in tangled curls.

I looked strung out.

Shit. I should have known this was too good to be true. I was never this happy.

Renee drugged me. _Again_.

She has never done this when I had to go to school. Why the hell did she do this now?

Shit! Shit! shit!

I splashed cold water on my face before heading out I made sure to wash my mouth out to get rid of the taste of vomit, gaggling water in my mouth like mouth wash. Even I thought I sounded obnoxious.

Thank god I puked on my way here or I would have been suffering from the effects of my drug induced happy episode for much longer than necessary and I would have ruined my 'lie under the radar' persona.

When I came out into the hall I was met with a flurry of students crowding the halls. Some were getting books out of their lockers, others laughing and loitering in the halls while others rushed off to class.

I stuck out like a sore thumb, a big fat red sore thumping thumb. While I sported a wide assortment of blacks and greys everyone else wore hippie colours. Some almost looking comical with the wacky patterns they chose.

Trying to imitate Lady Gaga I'm sure. I pursed my lips at the thought.

I headed to the first class of the day: Physics.

Who the hell scheduled our classes this way anyway? What kind of sick fuck puts Physics as the first class of the day at 9 a. m.?

I was still late to class I'm normally the first one here. I could feel the hairs on my neck stand up and goose bumps trail up my sleeve covered hands as I made my way to my seat.

I could feel eyes on me reminding me of me and my mother's "squabble" this morning and shrank into myself more hugging the large Physics Text Book to my chest almost painfully tight, being mindful to keep my head down and avoid I contact.

I plopped myself down in my usual seat at the back of the class almost impatient to feel cold hard metal against my rear.

My heart raced as everyone turned around in their seat to gawk at me. This wasn't supposed to happen. They shouldn't still be staring at me and my heart began to race.

What was wrong? I looked around confused.

I sank deeper into my seat only to find I wasn't sliding against hard cold steel. I was surprised to feel warm hard flesh beneath me.

Please. Let me be dreaming.

_Please_

"Well this is a warm welcome" a smooth voice whispered in my ear.

I scampered off my human chair like a bat out of hell almost twisting my ankle in the process, my hands flailing wildly as I tried to catch my balance but only managed in smacking the stranger in the face leaving a stinging pain in the back of my hand landing on my butt hard.

"What. The. Fuck?"

Right now I was on the floor looking into a pair of infuriated green eyes standing above me glaring down at me.

His posture radiated authority and his demeanour domineering, he reminded me so much of Charlie and that only made me want to get away from him even faster.

"I'm sorry but you're in my seat. I didn't see you there." I mumbled while gathering my things as quickly as I could without causing another accident.

"So there is no way you could have seen a 6ft 2 male sitting on a stool before plopping down on said person's lap?" he replied sarcastically while raising an eyebrow.

Like hell I wanted to sit in his lap. He was so conceited and I could care less about him but I couldn't stop the apologies from pouring out of my mouth.

I just wanted to disappear and he was wilfully dragging on this embarrassing encounter probably to embarrass me more in front of the whole class and I hated him, hated him for doing this to me.

He didn't even know me yet he thought he did making it out to seem like I was sleazy. Like plopping down into his lap was my way of getting his attention.

All these thoughts raged in my head all these thoughts swirled around into my conscious just waiting—no, begging to be said but the connection of my brain to my mouth was marred and I said what I always said. What I always did to prevent confrontation.

What I always did that made things better for me. This was normal for me.

"I'm sorry. It won't happen again. I was wrong" my voice came out more robotic than I intended but it wasn't forced and I silently moved away from him opting to take the seat furthest in the back directly behind him.

"Now that is enough class! Quiet down and open your Physics text book to page 79. Now" Mr. Fitzgerald demanded. His face filled with irritation at the lack of order his class had become over asshole and my debacle.

"Oh before I forget" a pause "we have a new student with us which by now I'm sure you all know by now, Edward Cullen" the teacher gestured to the boy in front of me.

So that was his name of the guy who stole my seat. What next will he take? Why couldn't he just go away? And at that very moment he turned around and his eyes locked with mine briefly before I averted my gaze.

That small moment was enough for me to catalogue his features in detail. His hair an odd shade or brown and red almost golden or like… like a penny or rusted iron. His thick eyebrows a darker shade to the hair on his head with a light dashing of fine hairs along his jaw with a dark shading over his pink thin lips.

His top lip was thin while the bottom one was plump and looked soft from where I sat with a patch of hair directly in the middle of his chin. He was in need of a shave but he had this rugged look going for him.

He would be considered handsome to anyone else but to me the way he treated me moments ago made him the third ugliest person in my life.

"Yes. Would you be so kind as to return Ms. Isabella's seat?"

"Who?"

"The one you so arrogantly trashed in front of the class"

I was mortified. Would this never end? Sure I was glad the teacher was standing up for me probably because I was his best student but now was not the time. Now I'd have to face Cullen again.

"If she wanted her seat she could have said so rather than scampering off after she assaulted me Mr. Fitzgerald" Edward said calmly.

"Now don't smart mouth me young man" the teacher was growing more annoyed by the second and it was all because of me.

"Ms. Swan would you like your seat back?"

"No—no I you've already taken it. It's yours not mine." I answered…"just leave me alone now _please_" I muttered under my breath.

He looked appeased by my answer until I muttered the last part and he froze. If he did hear me that was the only sign he gave but other than that he ignored me completely and class continued as normal.

Classed progressed as normal the rest of the morning, but I was saddened to realise Edward was also in my Literature and Math classes.

That day I decided to go to the cafeteria for lunch. This—is not a normal thing for me, I usually use this time to go to the library and do any homework assignments or read.

Today I was hungry, after puking my guts out earlier this morning I was in dire need of something to eat or I would surely pass out during gym this afternoon further drawing attention to me.

I grabbed an apple and a bottle of lemonade before finding a seat in the darkest corner of the room keeping my head down as to not attract attention my eyes darting to the bronze coloured hair I'd become slightly fond of for its uniqueness.

He was not alone.

How much new people did we have today?

A tall burly man- child with a lovely blonde on his arm next to them was that girl… from my English class as well, the one with the elfin face and spiky black hair sitting next to a lanky blonde haired male… and then there was Edward.

He stood out.

His eyes met mine.

**Author's note:**

**Hi… like I said I hope you enjoy this chapter. Classes has started up again so chapters will take longer to update but I'll try my best… **

**I'm starting small and asking for 3 reviews. Yes, just three for another chapter update. **

**So, review! **


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